


She Sends A Sky

by Jenwryn



Category: Death Note
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Genderswitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 01:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenwryn/pseuds/Jenwryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[girl!L x girl!Light]</p><p>These are the things that drive Light mad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Sends A Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IceQueenRex](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=IceQueenRex).



> (Random as hell) title comes from _[What The Snowman Learned About Love](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9qq3c-D2oWc)_. Setting and context are whatever you make of them.
> 
> Most importantly, this was written for [Rexie](http://icequeenrex.livejournal.com/), who gave me the prompt "snow between your twos"; I hope you have a lovely Christmas, honeygirl. ♥

The mountainside is laced with snow, caught up in drifts and spilling, powdery, over stones and hard-nosed grass. Yagami Light pulls her beanie closer around her ears and tugs her scarf a little further upwards – well, Watari's scarf, really, seeing as he'd had to lend it to her, that morning, when L had spilt tea all over the pretty Persian one, which Light's father had given her for her graduation. Light is grateful for the loan, and it's possibly even warmer than hers had been, especially with her hair so short nowadays, but the wool is still itchy; she rubs at her cheeks and her nose feels like twitching. She digs the front of her boot against the ground, and kicks at it with just a tiny dose of spite. To be completely honest, Light isn't particularly in love with snow. She's seen enough of it, turning into mush on street corners back home and, in heavier layers, when her parents had taken her and Sayu up the mountains for family holidays: it's cold, and it's wet.

That's why Light frowns, as she walks, fussing at the woollen itch as she goes; she frowns because frowning is what she _wants_ to be doing. L is supposed to notice at some point, feel chagrined, and stop being so damn L-like. Except, of course, both Light and her subconscious know full well that isn't really likely to happen. These are the things that drive Light mad, really. These are the things: the realisation that she's taken up singing, loudly and badly, in the shower, just because L likes the sound of it. The horrible awareness that she's becoming a sweet-tooth herself, after all those years of careful self-control, and it's starting to settle, just a little, on the softness of her stomach. The very fact that she's here, actually, in the snow, just because L had been seized by the whim of it.

They reach the crest of the path and L turns, grinning from beneath a mess of dark hair, and the blue scarf that Light herself had wound around the young woman's shoulders and face, until she'd looked more like a cerulean mummy than a day-tripper.

L's grin is maddeningly infectious, and Light finds her frown failing as she joins her companion at the top of the hill.

The world beneath them is white-clad and dizzily cold, its mood undecided as pale slivers of sunlight slip through clouds, and tiny gusts of wind make the tips of grass tufts shiver. Their destination – a small restaurant with a peaked roof and a dark path swept free of snow – glints beneath them, tucked, no longer far away, in a sheltered curve of the mountain's arm. L has been practically _fantasizing_ about their Black Forest cake, since the three of them crossed the border. Watari's dark car is already parked near the road just below, a light dusting of snow already settled against the black. Light would very much like to take this moment to make some observation about how, really, it would have made much more sense for them to have driven, too, rather than walk... And she would, she really would – Light has no problems letting the detective know how annoying she can be – except that suddenly she can't. Suddenly she can't, because L has her face turned away from the building, now; L has her face tipped upwards, her tongue out, and snowflakes are melting on the tip of its pinkish curl. The sky above them is cream and slate and failing sunshine mixed with snow.

Light's comment rests stillborn at the base of her throat.

Snow falls around them, drifting tumbles caught and set to sway in the breeze. L's hair whips at her pale face. L's eyes are wide and bright.

Light pulls her hands from her pockets, feeling all thumbs in the depths of her gloves. She wants to pull free from her gloves and caress warmth into L's cheeks with her bare fingers. She wants to watch, though, too; wants to watch without interrupting. She toys with the zipper on her coat.

“It goes against all logic,” L says, licking at her lips and casting Light a smiling gaze from above the wrap of her scarf, “but I somehow always expect snow to taste sweeter than it actually does. Like powdered frosting, perhaps.”

Light laughs now – gives up on being the earnest one, gives up on her determined frowning, just laughs from beneath her ribs.

L tilts her head with knowing eyes and whispers, “It's like snow between your toes, when it shivers its way into your mouth.”

Light wants to ask how L knows. Light wants insist that, well, under no circumstances is L allowed to take her shoes off and put the analogy to the proof. These are the things Light wants to say. Instead, she finds L pressed up against her, close and soft and _hers._ Lights huffs happily and presses gloved hands to the small of L's back.

L's lips on hers are cold, very cold, but her tongue is warm behind Light's teeth.

*

Watari has already finished his first cup of tea, by the time they tumble into the restaurant, all pink-faced and their lashes laced with snow. He just smiles at the waitress, who takes their coats and scarves, then puts hot chocolate and cake on their table.

Nobody there minds, when Light leans forwards and kisses cake from the corner of L's mouth; L practically purrs. L also takes another bite from her cake, innocent gaze wide upon the room around them, then slides her suddenly shoe-free feet into the warmth of Light's lap.

And maybe her developing sweet-tooth, at any rate, isn't quite so maddening as Light had originally thought.


End file.
